


Friendly Concern

by scatteringmyashes



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fire Emblem Fusion, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Slice of Life, Team as Family, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: "House Leader" should mean glory and respect, or at the very least a bit of responsibility. Hawke finds himself with no glory, very little respect, and only responsibility when he doesn't want it.In other words, Hawke's classmates tend to leave their things around the Academy. He does his best to return them.****A Fire Emblem AU/crossover of a kind, though no knowledge of Fire Emblem is necessary.
Relationships: Male Hawke & Isabela, Male Hawke & Varric Tethras
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Fake Beard

**Author's Note:**

> So it's been a hot second. I'm still a huge fan of Dragon Age and I was joking about this concept with some friends so... Here we are. 
> 
> All the DA2 companions will show up and I have at least one item for each. Mostly I'm drawing inspiration from the gifts in-game, though you'll notice some items that are different. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_ Fake Beard — Made of scratchy horse hair or something equally rough, this looks to be some kind of homemade prop.  _

It looked like one of the many cats that roamed Haven Academy, if the cat had been run over by a rampaging Qunari and then sat on by an ogre. There was even red around the edges, which was why Hawke went over to investigate it in the first place. If it was a dead cat, best to get rid of it before Anders or Merrill noticed — they'd both be upset, which usually resulted in Anders picking more fights and Merrill becoming more defensive, which also led to fights. Hawke, as the leader of the Red Dragon class, took it upon himself to stop that from happening. 

But when he got close enough to prod it with his sword, it was clear that this was no cat. 

"What in the Maker's name?" Hawke wondered, reaching down and holding it up. 

His first thought was that someone had cut their horse's mane and the ensuing tangle had blown over to the greenhouse. His second thought was that he was somehow the butt of a very specific joke. 

Then he noticed the thread strung around the back and, suspending the mass up properly, realized what he was holding. 

Finding the owner was easy enough. It was a rest day, so no lessons, which meant that Varric was either on the training grounds trying to convince Cole to change classes or in the grand hall playing trading stories with some of the others. Naturally, Hawke found him in neither place. It was only luck that made him run through the dining hall, where Varric was sitting across from two members of the Silver Griffins. 

Zevran noticed Hawke first, breaking into a wide grin. He waved, one hand still possessively guarding his cards. 

"Hello, Hawke. Care to join us in a game? Varric is, as you southerners say, fleecing us." 

Alistair frowned. "I would say we're putting up a good fight." 

"We've won two hands between us — and one of those was on accident." 

"A word of advice — don't play cards with a dwarf. They cheat." Hawke gestured towards the nearest exit. "Can I talk with you, actually?" 

"If it's about the amulet, I have no idea what you're talking about," Varric replied even as he stood. Hawke decided to not ask. "I'll be right back. Zevran, if I catch you looking at my cards, I'll—"

"What? Get mad at me?" Zevran interrupted with a sharp grin. Hawke had seen Isabela with that same expression. It was always a bit jarring remembering that they had known each other before the Academy. 

Varric laughed. "No, no. I'll be disappointed. Even Rivani can cheat better than that."

"I'll make sure he doesn't cheat," Alistair said. "Zevran is supposed to be working on his honesty, according to our professor." 

Zevran started making excuses and Hawke took the opportunity to walk out of the stuffy hall. Varric followed, adjusting his jacket but still leaving most of his chest fully visible. If Hawke didn't know that it was perfectly normal for dwarves to grow chest hair young, he would have been terribly jealous.

He was only a little envious of the display, but took comfort in the fact that at least he was already over six feet tall. 

"So, what's going on, Hawke? Need your trusty dwarf to get you out of a bind?" Varric asked. 

"Not quite. I think that you dropped this." Hawke reached into his bag and withdrew the tangled mess of hair, holding it out to Varric. "Care to tell me why you have a fake beard?" 

"Andraste's ass," Varric breathed, taking the object, "I thought that I lost this. Took me forever to convince Sparkler to let me into the stables. He thought I was up to something. I was, but not what he thought." 

Hawke was a little proud of himself for knowing who it belonged to and a little disturbed that he had been right.

"Yes, yes, good for you. But  _ why _ ?" Hawke repeated. 

"You'll see." Varric ran his fingers through some of the strands and frowned. "Hm, I'll have to wash it… but thanks, Hawke. I'm glad you found it." 

When Varric wanted, he could be just as mysterious as Solas. Hawke sighed. 

"Well, if it's going to be a joke on me, just give me a heads up? It's already hard enough for me to grow a beard." He had been trying for a while, but nothing but patches of peach fuzz took root. 

Varric laughed. "Oh, no, nothing of the sort. I just want to see your genuine reaction when I pull it out the first time." He frowned. "Or second, I guess. But really, thanks. Now, I'm going to go back to beating Zevran and his friend, unless…?"

"Have fun, Varric. And don't let them catch you cheating," Hawke said. He watched Varric head back inside with a faint smile on his face. Whatever the beard was for, Hawke had a feeling he'd enjoy it. 


	2. Ship In A Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend Evie has made some [art!!!](https://twitter.com/Yevievt/status/1293683489255038976?s=19) please check it out and support them!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_ Ship in a Bottle — A three-mast ship has been pieced together in a delicate glass bottle. _

He did not so much as find the bottle as he stumbled upon it, muttering curses under his breath as he hauled his trash out of his dorm and towards the waste bins at the end of the hall. All that time spent regaining the Amell honor and proving that he deserved a title as nobility and he still had to take his garbage out.  _ What a joke, _ he thought. 

When Hawke turned the bin upside-down into the larger one, he heard a loud  _ crack _ of something being struck. Hawke glanced around. It was late enough that no one else was out. He decided that he was not too much of a prissy noble to recoil at the idea of searchy through the waste a little — at worst, it was someone's old dagger or a broken mirror that he could pawn off later for some extra copper, and at best it was something cool. 

As he shifted through what were mostly old papers and a bit of half-eaten food, he did not expect to find a glass bottle with a delicately crafted sailing ship inside. There was a small crack down the side of the bottle, probably from being buried in junk, but other than that it was perfectly fine. 

Hawke frowned, holding it up to a nearby torch as if the light would grant him some insight. It was hard to believe that just anybody would have thrown it out. Maybe it was cursed? But nothing sprung out as concerning. 

He repressed a yawn and decided that some things were better solved during the day and, waste bin tucked under one arm, went back to his room. The bottle went in a corner for now, somewhere out of the way but also hard to forget since it was right by his armor. 

Still, he hadn't come to any conclusions by the time morning rolled around and, as he was never a morning person, found solace in his cup of coffee and the way Fenris smelled in the mornings before classes. 

People were used to Hawke using Fenris as a pillow, so it was of greater interest when Isabela came into the room looking like she had rolled around in the hay with her clothes on — and with her hair all akimbo. 

"Another late night?" Aveline chided, sticking her nose up in the air. 

"Yes, but not for any fun reasons." Isabela sat down and, without looking, snatched a piece of bacon from Anders' plate. "My room was broken into last night between dinner and evening chores."

"Well, shit," Varric said. 

"Why would anyone break into your room? Is it all the treasure you're always talking about?" Merrill asked.

Hawke leaned forward, early morning drowsiness forgotten. "I'm glad you're okay. Do you have any idea who it was? I'm not above getting some answers with force." He cracked his knuckles for good measure.

"We should report this to the Professor, Hawke, not take justice into our own hands." Aveline shook her head. "Sebastian, you agree with me, don't you?" 

"I would certainly suggest peaceful resolution first, unless they had good reason to raid your room." Sebastian eyed Isabela before looking to Hawke. Next to him, Fenris shifted from side to side. He didn't dislodge Hawke, but it was enough to force him to sit up straight.

"Yes, what do you want to do?" Aveline asked, her gaze also on Hawke. 

"If anyone's curious I don't know who did it in the first place," Isabela cut in, drawing the attention back to her. "I just want to make sure I have all my stuff. And get new locks…" 

"I think I've got something for you. That is, as long as you aren't opposed to dumping a vial of acid on anyone."

"Varric!' 

"I'm joking, Red." Varric didn't sound like he was, but Hawke decided that was between him and Aveline. "Seriously, Rivani. Let us know what we can do for you."

"I'm pretty sure that Wynne knows a location spell," Anders piped up. 

"I don't think it's that desperate, but I'll keep that in mind." Isabela sighed, tongue worrying the piercing on her bottom lip. "It's just bothersome." But she didn't look like she wanted to continue the conversation and soon the group was back to arguing about classes and that month's mission. 

****

Hawke didn't bring it up until later in the day, strolling up to Isabela's dorm with his bag slung over one shoulder and his jacket, as always, missing from his uniform. She was on the bottom floor nestled between Merrill and Aveline, to Isabela's delight and Aveline's despair. Today, however, the three girls in the Red Dragon class were all working on tidying Isabela's room, with… minimal fighting.

"I don't want to know where you got these or why you have them," Aveline said as Hawke approached. The door was open so he saw her toss a locked box at Isabela, who caught it with a loud cackle.

"If you want to try them sometime, I can show you how they're used," she promised with a wink. 

"Hawke! Are you here to help us clean up?" Merrill chirped, looking at the person in question.

"If you need a pair of hands, I'm avoiding Cullen for the afternoon," Hawke replied. 

"Why are you avoiding the Professor?" Aveline narrowed her eyes, as if she could determine Hawke's crimes by sheer force of will.

Actually, knowing her it was entirely possible. 

"Nothing, nothing," Hawke lied, because he wasn't about to open that can of worms. "I actually wanted to talk to you, Bella." 

"Well, I sure am popular today." She set the box on her desk and followed Hawke out of the room. The door remained open, but they were far enough that their voices probably wouldn't carry. "If it's about the book, I can explain." 

"What book?" Hawke made the mistake of saying. Isabela grinned.

"Oh! Don't worry your pretty little head about it. What did you want to talk about?" 

Hawke made a note to ask about it later, but didn't fancy a fight at that moment. He hadn't entirely been lying about avoiding Cullen for the day — extra drills were dull when he could spend the afternoon relaxing instead. 

Rather than say anything immediately, he reached into his bag and drew out the ship in a bottle. He handed it over to Isabela with a smile. 

"I figured this is yours." 

"Oh!" Her eyes went wide, fingers grasping the smooth glass with hardly a tremor. The only thing that betrayed her true sentimentality was how close she held it. "Thank you, Hawke. This is… it means a lot to me. Where did you even get this?" 

"In the trash, if you can believe it," Hawke confessed. 

"Why were you…? You know, I won't ask." Isabela leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Really, thank you. So much was tossed or ruined, I hadn't even had time to brood about what was lost. I'm glad this is one less thing to worry about."

"Of course. And, Isabela?" 

She smiled, expression warm. "Yes, Hawke?" 

"Let me know if you need help picking locks. I'm, uh, pretty good at that sort of a thing." 

Isabela's laugh wafted through the dorms. "I will keep you in mind if Varric's… ideas don't work out."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ashes8012) or tumblr [here.](http://scatteringmyashes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
